#[[ also Al so casually making him a sandwich KILLS me xDDD ]]

[countlessrealities]

Alastor's grin doesn't fade, of course, but the way his eyelids fall down half away and his teeth grit more tightly together shows how unimpressed he is with Adam's comeback. And, maybe, a little annoyed too, but he won't give the other the satisfaction to acknowledge that.

"I'm tempted to believe that you twisting my words around is to be blamed on your unsettling lack of smarts," he deadpans, drumming his claws over the dirty surface of the serving counter. "But Vaggie enjoys your company, so you can't be that dull. So, I'll assume that you're doing it on purpose."

Which also means that he won't bother to correct him again, or reply to any part of it.

"I kindly ask you," even if there's nothing kind in the way his shadow smirks and mimics crushing something that suspiciously looks like a bird, "to refrain from doing it ever again."

With that, the Radio demon melts in the shadows, only to reappear on the other side of the counter, humming a tune under his breath as he starts rummaging around the abandoned supplies. The ingredients are far from meeting his standards, quality wise, but they'll have to do.

"So we'll be soon meeting a little lady? Then I truly cannot make breakfast out of her. It would be a real crime!"

He laughs at his own words, collecting all he needs before pushing up his sleeves a little. His gloves come off next, getting neatly stashed in his inner pocket. Had they been in a more private setting, he would have taken off his coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, but this will have to do.

"So!" He shows Adam a form of bread, cut in two perfectly identical halves. "Any preference on the filling?"

Eugh. Adam can't help the brief look of disgust that flashes across his face with Alastor's particular choice in words. The word 'lover' conjures up a lot more than the word 'boyfriend' does. Please never speak to him again.

"So you think spending time with your lover," disgusting, but Adam doesn't miss a beat in continuing with the correction, "is more of a waste of time than hanging out with me of all people? Especially when he talks so much more properly than I do? I'm gonna tell him you said that the next time I see him."

It will be mentioned to Vaggie, the next time they talk, that Alastor blatantly decided to sidestep the 'boyfriend' accusation and go right for 'lover'. It could just as easily be that stupid, old-timey way he speaks, but either way, if he has to sit there with that awful image in his head, then he's not going to be sitting there alone.

For a split second, Adam was almost hopeful that Alastor's shift was a shift to depart. Which isn't an incorrect assumption, but he'd gotten it dreadfully backwards. A shift to make everyone else depart.

In the next split second, keeping up appearances doesn't seem to matter as much. If the nauseating sound of tearing flesh and screams don't cause Adam to tense up, then the frightened stampede does the trick. He tightens his wings around his form and wraps both arms around himself with a slight, protective hunch—Jesus Christ.

"... I was actually here for lunch," he mutters in disgust.

It hadn't just been a convenient excuse to play off the hand faithfully on his stomach. There's an irate sigh that follows that thought before Adam finally decides to have a seat—there's not exactly a line to wait in anymore. It takes a bit of careful wing-shifting before he decides to cautiously sit down. Something tells him this conversation won't end until he participates in it.

"No, I don't actually know its gender yet. But my hunch says girl. You happy now? Are we done here?"